


Coming Home

by BulletproofFurniture



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Petplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BulletproofFurniture/pseuds/BulletproofFurniture
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave comes home after a long day. Bro makes it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Oh, jeez. Okay, oh goodness. So I started writing this for a friend a few months back, when he was having ~issues~ with stuff, and then I chickened out because everyone had written it much better than I had so I stopped writing, but I decided to finish it for him.
> 
> This is my first time writing smut in a fic, so please be gentle! I do accept constructive criticism; in fact, I encourage it! Please enjoy!

Honestly, it’s a pretty simple relationship. Bro is the boss of the house and makes all the rules, and you ignore them all and rarely do your share of the chores (which include fighting back the mold growing in the bathroom, dumping the used plastic dinnerware into the trashcan, and feeding Turtley the turtle who was somehow still alive).

Despite the ecosystem growing in the sink and the slimy film on the restroom floor, the bedrooms and living room of the apartment are always kept impossibly clean. Perhaps a bit cluttered and a little littered by puppets, but always vacuumed and always dust-free. The entertainment system is organized, and a minifridge stands in the corner with CDs neatly stacked on top. Bro is never one to skip out on his chores.

But there’s something else to this simple relationship that helps keep it all in balance…

***  
It’s about four thirty when you finally trudge into the apartment complex, slightly burnt from the late-summer Texas sun that always comes along with the start of the new school year. You check the mail box (all junk) before trudging up the stairs to the third-floor apartment you share with your Bro, being sure to skip the fifth and ninth steps, which are rusted and thin with age. The faulty latch on the door easily gives way when you kick it open, and you make sure to hang your backpack on a hook in the wall (you learned from a young age to keep your things tidy; Bro used to belt-spank you for it otherwise).

“What the fuck happened to picking me up, Bro?” You shout into the quiet living room, suspiciously devoid of life. “You’d better not expect me to spar with you after walkin’ all the way home in the middle of the summer!” Okay, so maybe the eighty-five-degree weather isn’t as bad as the mid-summer hundreds, but it is still a bitch to walk through after a long day of learning things you won’t ever need.

Showing your annoyance through your slightly furrowed eyebrows, you park your ass on the couch and begin navigating the cable, trying to find something that isn’t as shitty as the day you’ve been having. It doesn’t surprise you that Dirk hasn’t come out; he keeps odd hours and very well may be sleeping. However, it does disappoint you a bit; it’s always a good time when your Bro is out and about.

You’re lost in this thought as you pay half a mind to the screen, playing some daytime drama, when you feel a nudge on your leg. Your lip twitches in a brief smirk before you look down to see one of your favorite sights, and the tension in your shoulders from the long walk is quickly swept away.

The soft, pointed Doberman ears stand proudly from Dirk’s hair, and as your eyes make their way down his back, you can see the small tail poking out from between his buttocks. Warmth pools in your stomach at the thought of him fingering himself for you.

You chuckle lightly and ruffle a hand in his hair, clean and devoid of product for once; just like you told him you liked it. “Have you been a good boy while I was away? Huh?” You scratch behind his ears as he pants lightly, and you grin at his faithfulness.

You coo at him and ruffle his hair and scratch the back of his head, and you can see from the wag of his cute little tail that he’s enjoying this. You give him a few basic commands; sit, roll over, speak. His erection is already leaking pre, and you can feel your cock hardening in the confines of your jeans. You tell him to sit and stay, and you go to the kitchen to get one of the sugar-cookies you baked in the shape of a dog treat. When you come back, he’s climbed up on the couch and lies there, smiling smugly. You frown and march over and spank him sharply on the ass with a loud “No!” You barely see the shudder race through him before he’d rocketing off the couch and sitting on the floor, eyes averted, ashamed. You pretend not to see the way his erection twitches.

“Now,” you say as you plant yourself on the couch. “Sit still.” You tilt his face up just a little and place the dog treat on the bridge of his nose and between his eyebrows. He sits perfectly still and you can see his erection flushing darker, because this is Dirk’s favorite part.

Your shoes are the first to go, then your socks, then your pants and underwear. Dirk strains his eyes to see you without dropping the treat, and you reach under the couch for the lube. It warms between your fingers and you stroke yourself lazily for a bit, watching him watch you. You slowly fondle your balls with a low moan before slipping your fingers a little further down and rubbing at your asshole. Your Bro is trembling from resisting the urge to jump up and mount you immediately. You’re a bit glad for that; it would be awful if you had to stop to punish him and teach him a lesson. Then neither of you would get off.

You begin to finger yourself slowly, biting your lip at the two fingers that spread you open. You don’t go too deep; you like it painful, rough, animalistic, and you finish quickly before getting on your knees with your legs spread, chest resting on the couch cushions. You slap your ass lightly, panting heavily, and call out, “Here, boy. C’mere.”

And just like that, he’s mounting you and panting and whining and thrusting blindly and this, this has always been better than foreplay. His eagerness, his drive, it makes you harder and you reach behind him to grip his length and guide him in.

There’s no gentleness to his thrusting when you have him this wound up, so when he pushes in, it’s quick and hard and just a little painful and just a lot of pleasure. You groan open-mouthed against the couch and try to spread your legs farther as he thrusts quick and hard and without rhythm. Your breaths come out as breathy moans, and his come out as deep grunts.

You know he won’t last long; he never does, like this. So you reach between your legs and pull at your cock, moans turning into whines as you reach the edge. Your climax hits you like a brick wall, and you cry out into the couch. Bro leans forward and bites your shoulder, thrusting jerkily a few more times before coming. You shiver at the feeling of his come squishing around; it’s pretty gross but he doesn’t pull out, instead resting his head on your shoulder, catching his breath as his dick softens. He eventually slips out and crawls out of the living room to go to your shared bedroom. You stand slowly, grimacing at the come that leaks out of you.

You walk shakily to the bathroom, ass sore from the ill-prepared sex, and you clean yourself off. When you make your way in your room, Bro is curled on top of your covers, ears, tail, and collar still on. He’s sleeping soundly, and you think he’s too cute to begrudge the comfort of the bed. So rather than shoving him off onto the floor, you crawl in next to him and stroke his hair slowly. You eventually drift to sleep, wrapped around his curled form, warm and filled with a strange contentment.


End file.
